


Glimpse

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-03-30
Updated: 2005-03-30
Packaged: 2018-12-27 14:19:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12082809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: What you might see in the middle of the night...





	Glimpse

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

It's a cool night. Stars dot the sky and the moon is little more than half full; it hangs white and round in the darkness. At this late hour there's almost no sound or movement outside except the rustling of leaves and the occasional car driving by. 

A building has a light shining threw big upstairs windows, not much more than a soft glow. One of the windows is open slightly, just enough to let in the soft breeze. If you could take look inside a picture becomes clearly visible.

The light itself comes from a lamp on the bedside table, its soft yellow glow the only illumination in the room. It isn't enough to show anything other than the bed and filtered by jalousies, the outlines of the huge space around the bedroom. The sheets are cream-coloured, a hint of gold due to the light, in contrast to the dark blue duvet tangled in a heap at the foot of the bed.

The sheets look to have been pushed out of the way as well, as do the pillows, which lie haphazardly across the wide mattress. In the middle of the bed are two men, bodies entangled and slicked with sweat, moving together in a rhythm all their own.

The man on the bottom has blond hair, plastered to his forehead. His hands grip the sheets and he has his head turned to the side, panting for breath. There is a bite mark on the back of his shoulder blade; his knees are pulled up under him as he tries to get leverage.

Above him is a dark-haired man, arms braced on either side of his partner. He is kneeling behind the blond, moving inside him strong and sure. His eyes are closed, his mouth half-open. 

"Please...oh God, please..." The blonde’s voice is hoarse, ragged, desperate with lust and need. He arches his back as his partner thrusts into him, pushing back onto the thick cock driving into his body. "God..."

His partner makes no sound save for the groans he cannot control and the slap of skin on skin as he moves. He leans down, biting the blonde’s neck, his tongue licking the sweat away. 

The blond moans, his whole body radiating submission, a plea for anything, everything, just something to push him over that edge. His left hand tightens in the sheets and his right reaches down under his body, wrapping around his cock.

"No," the dark-haired man says, almost a growl. It's the first word he's spoken. "No."

The blond moans in frustration but his hand moves back up to the sheets, knuckles white with tension where he grasps the sheets. "Please..." He's openly begging now, body twisting into each thrust. "C'mon, please, I can't--"

"No," the dark-haired man whispers against the blonde’s throat. "You come when *I* say."

"I can't--" The blonde’s head falls down, his chest heaving as he pants for air. 

"When I say, Justin. Not before."

Justin moans helplessly, each breath a desperate sobbing gulp for oxygen. The room itself is cool but Justin's pale skin gleams with sweat and his face is flushed, the colour spreading down to his collarbone. "I need--please--"

His partner bites his earlobe, the pain just enough to bring Justin back from the razor's edge. "I'll let you come," he whispers, voice rough. "But not until I'm ready."

By this point Justin has lost all semblance of control. He writhes under the weight of the other man, fingers clawing at the sheets, whimpering and whining and gasping out incoherent pleas. All it earns him is a low rumble of laughter and a sharp nip to his shoulder.

"So good," his partner breathes against his damp skin. "So good for me. Tight and hot and willing to let me do anything to you, just so I'll let you come. And you're so desperate for it right now. So close. But you won't come, will you?"

Justin is past the point of rational speech; he can only shake his head, half-sobbing in frustration.

The thrusts into him are sharper, harder now, his partner close to losing control. He licks the line of Justin's throat, teeth digging in just behind Justin's ear. "Perfect," he growls softly, just before he thrusts into Justin's body one last time and comes, breathing hard.

Justin's head hangs down between his arms, his face streaked with sweat. "Come on, please," he moans. "Please..."

His partner pulls out of him in one swift movement that leaves Justin groaning. "Turn over," he says.

Justin wastes no time in obeying, his body tight with need. "Please Brian..."

"So pretty when you're desperate," Brian teases, not without affection. He leans down and licks the head of Justin's cock, sucking it into his mouth. Justin keens, low and long in the back of his throat, trying with every bit of willpower he has left not to move.

Brian releases his cock and looks up. "Come for me, Justin," he says, right before he bends his head and swallows Justin down.

Justin nearly screams as he comes, his body snapping taut with the force of his orgasm. His arms are flung out to the sides and his head is turned to the side, tears caught on his lashes. He slumps back against the bed, shuddering and trembling with the aftermath.

He lies there, limp and exhausted, unable to move as Brian kisses his lips gently. "I'll be right back," the man promises, stroking light fingers down Justin's cheek. Justin can only grunt in acknowledgment.

When he returns, it is with a warm washcloth which he uses to clean them both off, gently and carefully. He tosses the cloth on the floor and lies down next to Justin, reaching out to hold him. "You ok?," Brian murmurs into Justin's hair.

"Mmm." Justin is still not quite capable of speech. He presses closer, automatically seeking the warmth and comfort of the body next to him. His partner smiles fondly and kisses the top of his head.

Outside, the night is cool and clear, stars shining faintly above. No one is there to watch the leaves rustle in the soft breeze. No one hears the gentle sounds of afterglow, the whisper of silk against skin as the men crawl under the covers for bed, one still groggy and the other holding him safe.

If you were looking, you might see Justin curled up against Brian, one long arm thrown over him instinctively. You might catch a glimpse of the blue comforter tucked around both men, of blonde hair and dark against the cream coloured pillowcases. 

And then you might see nothing at all, as the lamp is turned off and the only light in the room is the faint glow of the moon outside.


End file.
